


What Used To Be

by TheBlackMagister



Category: Escape the Fate, Falling in Reverse
Genre: Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Mild Kink, On-Again/Off-Again Relationship, One-Sided Relationship, Smut, mild choking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 16:35:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5212964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlackMagister/pseuds/TheBlackMagister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronnie thinks about his relationship with Craig.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Used To Be

Craig's fucking beautiful.

He's shivering on top of Ronnie, cheeks flushed, panting and whimpering and fuck, Ronnie's not even inside him yet. He wants him to be, though, wants it so badly his entire body trembles, and when the older's lips brush against his neck, sucking a hickey, he whimpers again, arching against Ronnie's chest. It's one of the best parts about Craig - he's ridiculously easy to break. It's why he's Ronnie's go-to fuck.

"Please," Craig whines, arching and clutching at Ronnie's upper arm, "Please, Ron." His tone elicits a growl from the Falling in Reverse frontman, whose mouth attaches to his pulse, and fuck he's sensitive. He moans, grips Ronnie's hair, and Ronnie's just about fed up with simple grinding and rubbing. They don't need prep - they haven't had real, prepared sex in - Ronnie can't even remember. He's pretty sure it was sometime before he went to jail. He presses up into Craig and the younger's moan falters, dying into a breathy, strangled little squeak of pleasure.

Fuck.

He can't resist, ramming up into Craig over and over and over and it's so worth it to see Craig arch and cry out, neck exposed, breaking out into goosebumps. He sucks on the exposed skin, enjoying the tightness of the other male, pulling the dark locks - shorter than what he's accustomed to. Craig's nails are digging into his shoulders and he likes the pain, likes the grounding reality of it. He shoves Craig down by the throat, pinning him to the bed, hips snapping forward until Craig is a squirmy, panting, sobbing mess. God, it's a good look.

"Ronnie," He arches, cut off, choking over a pathetic whimper. "R- I - ffff'ck-"

"Shut up," Ronnie growls, palms pressing on Craig's bare neck, "Fucking hell, Mabbitt, shut up." And Craig does, falls silent, probably doesn't even take offense. They're used to this. He's used to Ronnie's roughness, the uncaring in the middle of sex. Instead Craig grips his forearms, legs winding over his shoulders, and Ronnie presses, makes sure Craig's properly bent in half. He know it's Craig's favorite position and while sometimes he would be cruel, deny Craig the pleasure, he's ready to be finished but he wants Craig to cum first. He knows he will; Craig's fragile like that, so open, doesn't care how much Ronnie sees.

"Please," And it's a plead to cum. Craig's tone is different this time, needy, desperate, giving up full control to Ronnie. Good. Ronnie reaches between them, strokes his stiff cock, thumb brushing over the Prince Albert that makes Craig's voice fade, the other's eyes going wide, lips parted, panting. Ronnie kisses him, hard, tongue forcing into his mouth, and he lets him, inhaling sharply at a tug on his dick. He's going to blow and they can both feel it.

"Whore." That's the only permission Craig's getting but it's enough. The slighter man's back arches completely off the bed, cum dribbling onto his own stomach, and Ronnie's not far behind him - one, two, three, release, still fucking him, riding out orgasm. Craig can't stop shaking, eyes rolling back, and Ronnie could just tear him to pieces.

That had been about, what, four hours ago.

Now Ronnie's laying awake in the darkness of the hotel room. He'd had to force Craig into the shower - by which that meant carry the younger male, seeing as how Craig's legs had completely refused to work. They'd tried. Then Ronnie'd put them to bed. Craig passed out almost at once.

He, however, didn't have that luck.

His mind is racing as it usually does after sex with Mabbitt. He thinks back to when they first met, Warped Tour '07. He'd asked Craig on a date the second day; after which he'd absolutely rawed Craig. Not that he remembered it all that well, he had been too high. They'd dated on and off until he went to prison, when Craig completely abandoned him. And fuck, it had hurt. It had stung, having Craig push him away. He wouldn't say he'd been the best boyfriend, he'd been too high to treat Craig properly, but at least something would have been better than sudden loss of contact. He'd had nobody.

So when he got out he had immediately gone to find Craig. It had healed the wounds a little, because Craig had gotten on the ground and pleaded for forgiveness; and he'd rammed his dick down the new ETF frontman's throat. That had felt good. He isn't sure what it had accomplished, even now, but it had made him feel better at the time.

And so it was vaguely similar to how it had been before prison. They were on again off again; or at least, he knows that's how Craig interprets it. He isn't so sure. Craig is... his booty call, his fuck when he's stressed. He hasn't thought much deeper than that about the other. He's not sure if he even still loves Craig. He knows Craig loves him, but -

It makes his head hurt. He doesn't want to break Craig's heart but he doesn't want to try to feel something he can't. He's not sure when exactly he stopped loving Craig. Maybe it had been when he panicked, just before the police had caught him, and he'd called Craig and gotten no answer. Maybe it had been when Craig had been his one-call and he'd still gotten no answer. Maybe maybe maybe. He doesn't  _know_.

Craig rolls over in his sleep, groaning softly. Ronnie glances at him, wraps an arm around his body and pulls him close. He snuggles into the curve of Ronnie's side, head resting on the tattooed chest. Ronnie exhales. Craig is warm and soft, so peaceful in sleep. His hair is still a mess but it fits him. Long eyelashes, pale skin, round jawline, messy dark hair; he could be somebody's lost prince. Ronnie takes a deep breath and shifts to curl around Craig instead, face pressing into Craig's hair. His shampoo smells vaguely minty.

Fuck, Craig is beautiful. And it's as these thoughts are sweeping Ronnie into the inky darkness of sleep that a thought occurs to him, one so simple he almost laughs, can't believe he'd never thought of it before in every time he's wondered.

Maybe he never stopped loving Craig at all.


End file.
